


Operation: Christmas

by Braincoins



Series: Shallura Holiday Month 2017 [11]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Mistletoe, SHM 2017, Shallura Holiday Month, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: The Black Paladin and the Princess of Altea are being troublesome. Time to do something about it.





	Operation: Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as a Secret Santa backup for [pixie_rings](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings) last year. It fit the Day 26 Prompt (Mistletoe) for SHM this year, and she was gracious enough to let me use it. :3 Thanks, Pix!
> 
> For anyone curious, the paladins got the Castle's manufactor to make something that at least _looks_ like mistletoe. It isn't the actual Earth plant, but it's close enough.   
>  ================================

            They gathered in the dead of night, in secret, to scheme. The princess of Altea and the leader of Voltron were proving to be more troublesome than anticipated. This couldn’t be allowed to continue. Something had to be done. They plotted their next moves carefully, crafting their plan, leaving nothing to chance or the vagaries of luck. There would be no escape.

 

            Shiro leaned his head back against the wall and cursed under his breath. He’d been careless, and now they were trapped. There was hardly room for the two of them to stand, let alone try to mount an assault on the door.

            He was still a little groggy from the nunvill; it had hit him harder than he’d anticipated. And yeah, it didn’t taste all that good, but they’d been celebrating Christmas and Hanukkah and that was what they had instead of eggnog. Thinking back on it, he realized that Keith had been refilling his cup for him – and frequently at that.

            “I swear I’ll make them pay for this,” he promised.

            “I have… what did Lance call it? Dabs?”

            That took him a bit to figure out through his headache. “Dibs,” he corrected.

            “Dibs, then. I have dibs.” The princess was _not_ pleased.

            “I suppose I can’t deny you that. How did they get you?” he asked her. “I know they got me drunk and probably hauled me in here, but…”

            “They said you were sick and refusing to come out of this closet for some reason, so I came in to try to help you.” She scowled. “Then they shut and locked the door behind me.” She looked over her shoulder at the door as if it were, itself, complicit in this betrayal.

            Shiro cocked his head a little as he noticed something on the ceiling above them. He blinked his eyes a little as they adjusted to the wan light of the closet and then he groaned. “I will murder them in their sleep.”

            “Please don’t; the universe does still need them.”

            “Okay, not literally, but…” He pointed up.

            She looked above them and frowned, tilting her head cutely. “What is that?”

            “It looks like mistletoe.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Oh, right, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a tradition in some cultures on Earth that if you and another person are standing under mistletoe, you have to kiss each other or you’ll both have bad luck.”

            She blinked and studied the plant hanging from the ceiling. “I’d say we already have bad luck. For that matter, the paladins should be worried about _their_ luck once we get out of here.”

            “I don’t know about bad luck, but I do have a headache.” He couldn’t really move his arms enough in the tiny closet to rub at his temple. Even knowing it wouldn’t make the headache go away, he badly wanted to.

            “Well, I can imagine,” she said. “I’ve never seen someone drink so much.”

            “I didn’t really realize how much I was drinking.”

            “I did think it was a bit unusual, but I didn’t want to say anything. You were all celebrating your ‘Christmas’ and I wasn’t sure if I would be interrupting some sort of important tradition.”

            “Please feel free to interrupt next time,” he advised her.

            “Normally I would let you suffer the consequences of your actions, but considering that this seems to have all been part of their little scheme, let me help.”

            “Help?” he asked.

            She barely had the room to do it, but she managed to get her hand on his chest, just over his heart. “I might be able to ease your pain, if you’re willing.” It was hard to see in the very dim light, but it looked like her cheeks had darkened slightly.

            He licked his lips, suddenly that much more aware of how close they were. “Anything you could do to help would be appreciated, Princess.”

            She smiled and her hand glowed. It was a strange experience: warm at point of contact but cooling and soothing as the feeling flowed through his body. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief as tension was smoothed away and his headache ebbed to near non-existence. It was almost transcendent, and when the sensation vanished, he felt… diminished somehow. He opened his eyes again to look at her.

            “That… that was incredible.”

            She smiled up at him, and he was even more certain she was blushing. “Do you feel better?”

            “Much. Thank you. I didn’t know you could do that.”

            Her smile widened. “It’s much the same as sharing energy with a Balmera crystal. It’s just… well, nevermind.”

            “No, what is it? I want to know.”

            She cleared her throat, eyes darting away from his. “Normally, Alteans only share energy with someone they’re close to. _Very_ close to.”

            “Oh.” He felt heat again, in his cheeks this time. “Well, um. We _are_ close, after all. Can’t be much else in here.”

            She laughed a little. “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

            “Yeah, but it got you to laugh.” He squirmed around enough to get his hand over hers on his heart. “Thank you so much for doing that for me, even if it was… awkward for you.”

            She finally looked at him again. “I was glad to do it. To be of help to you, I mean!” she added quickly. Her blush hadn’t died yet.

            “You were. Are. A help, that is. But I don’t ever want you to do something that would be…”

            “Oh, no, it wasn’t! I didn’t mind!”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Oh, yes, absolutely. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been willing to!”

            They went around like that for a bit and then fell into an awkward silence. He realized he was not only still pressing her hand to his chest, he was idly stroking her skin with his thumb. The blush that had finally started to fade roared back into his face with a vengeance. “Sorry! I…” He started to pull his hand away.

            “Don’t be,” she said immediately. “It feels nice.”

            He stopped and put his hand back where it had been, resuming his petting. “Your skin is so soft.”

            “Thank you.” She was back to not looking at him, and the quiet began to settle in around them again. She looked up at the ceiling. “This plant brings good luck if you kiss under it or only wards off bad?”

            “Um. Y’know, I’m not sure. I think it’s more like you _will_ have bad luck if you don’t kiss under it.”

            “Oh, so it’s a curse. That seems appropriate.”

            He chuckled a little, eyes tracing over her face and neck since she was looking at the mistletoe and not him. He licked his lips again. “You know, they probably won’t let us out until we satisfy their voyeuristic tendencies.”

            “Hm?” She lowered her gaze back to his and tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

            “They probably have a camera or something in here. They’re waiting for us to kiss under the mistletoe.”

            “Oh.” She looked back up at the ceiling and then back to him. “On the one hand, I don’t want to reward them for their plotting. On the other, I would like to get out of this closet.”

            “So would I,” he said softly, then cleared his throat. “I mean, I agree 100%. With everything you said.” He swallowed hard.

            “And it’s just a kiss, right?”

            “Right. A quick one. Doesn’t have to be…”

            “Intense?”

            “Right.”

            “Or passionate.”

            “Correct.”

            “Well, that’s not really so bad. I mean… I’ve already shared my energy with you.” Her blush was blooming again.

            “And I’m so very grateful for that.”

            “So, really, what’s a little kiss? Between friends.”

            “Right. Friends,” he agreed too quickly.

            She licked her lips and he couldn’t help watching the motion. He was vaguely aware that he was breathing faster than was normal and tried to slow it down. His eyes were hyper-focused on her lips and he was worried about his breath after all that drinking but this wasn’t anything romantic they’d already established that but he could still feel the lingering tendrils of her energy in him, still remember what that had felt like, and she was leaning towards him, crystalline eyes falling closed, and he reminded himself that this was just a quick kiss between friends to get out of this closet and start avenging themselves upon their captors.

            And it was a quick kiss. One second, maybe two. But his breathing was still fast and they both opened their eyes when it was over, and there was an eternal second of acknowledgement that passed between them before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. She kissed him hard and moaned against his lips, and he suddenly wanted to never leave this closet again if it meant being any farther from her than this.

 

            “How long do we leave them in there?” Coran asked. They’d all been listening in over Allura’s comm links, and the paladins had been high-fiving their success as the talking had given way to softly contented sounds.

            “We should go open the door now,” Lance suggested. “Embarrass the crap out of them.”

            “They’ll _murder_ us,” Pidge reminded him.

            “I dunno, they might be in a slightly less homicidal mood now,” Hunk pointed out.

            “We are not going to open ourselves up to attack like that,” Keith said. “Coran, unlock the door. We’ll just go about our business. At some point, they’ll think to try the door again and find it opens now, but until then, we don’t have to be anywhere _near_ that closet. That is officially the Kill Zone until they get out.”

            Coran pushed a few buttons. “Right. There we go. And, uh, while I’m at it…” He muted the comm link, which set off a chorus of disappointed groans. “No, no. She’s like a daughter to me. I do _not_ need to hear more of that.”

            “Well, Operation: Christmas was a success, everyone!” Lance announced. “I say we celebrate.”

            Pidge shrugged. “Might as well. This is probably the last chance we’ll get for a while. It’s going to be nothing but cleaning duty for the rest of our lives after this.”

            Keith grinned. “Worth it.”


End file.
